A Better Man (16 page)

What was goin
g on?

Lifting the skirt of her floor-­length Cinderella ball gown, she sighed and looked at Ziggy, who lay stretched out on the foot of her bed. “If I'm not home before midnight, either promise I won't turn into a pumpkin or you'll call the c
ops.”

Ziggy ba
rked.

“Good eno
ugh.”

When the doorbell rang Lucy nearly forgot everything she'd just been taught. Her heart sprang into action. While she wanted to rush off, she instead wiggled her toes in the sparkling high heels and carefully made her way down the stairs. With her hand on the knob she took a breath to quell her racing heart and opened the
door.

Had she not had to admit that Rashard and the girls had done an amazing job of turning her into Cinderella for a night, the look on Jordan's face said it
all.

And because of that, for the first time in her life, she really did feel beaut
iful.

“
Y
ou're wearing a . . . tux,” Lucy said as soon as she opened the door. “I don't know what to
say.”

For a moment, he didn't know what to say either. Because she simply stole his br
eath.

“No worries. I've got that covered.” He took her hand and gave her a little twirl. “You look gorge
ous.”

When she blushed Jordan realized that he might not always say or do the right thing, but when he got it right, he naile
d it.

The strapless lavender gown fit at the top in a sparkling cut that formed a heart-­shaped neckline at her lush cleavage, and the bottom of the gown floated out in an array of lilac ruffles. The gown fit her perfectly. But it was Lucy herself who made the gown spectac
ular.

Her silky hair had been left down in a carefree tangle of soft curls he wanted to wrap around his hands. Her makeup had been artfully applied not to mask her beauty, but to accent it. And her full, kissable lips were highlighted only by a swipe of shiny gloss instead of a dark color to hide
them.

“You take my breath away, L
ucy.”

Her shoulders lifted on an intake of air. “You don't have to say t
hat.”

He leaned in and inhaled the sweet scent that drifted up from her warm skin. “Get used to it.” Noticing her uneasiness, he smiled. “Because the way I see it, whether you're dressed like you're ready for a ball or walking the corridor of school, you're a stunning wo
man.”

“Not that I don't appreciate it, but I'm wondering why you sent three strangers to my house. Other than the obvi
ous.”

“I might say I overstepped. But clearly, I sent the right peo
ple.”

“They scared me to death. I thought they were here to rob
me.”

He grinned. “Someone named Rashard from a place called Stardust Creations scared you to de
ath?”

“Well, maybe not after he told me his name and why he was h
ere.”

“Scaring you was never my intent.” He realized he was still holding her hand, and he gave her cool, soft fingers a little squeeze. “Surprising you with something I doubt you'd ever do for yourself was my only object
ive.”

Her pillowy breasts lifted above the sparkling neckline on an intake of air that she let go with a little sigh. “You make it very hard to be mad at
you.”

“Good. I'd hate to waste the entire evening with you angry. I have more surprises in st
ore.”

“Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “No one's ever done anything this nice for me bef
ore.”

“You're welcome.” He smiled. “And I'm glad it makes you feel g
ood.”

“I feel . . . fancy.” Her laughter brought forth the dimple in her cheek. “And I certainly hope you didn't reserve a table at Cranky Hank's, because this dress really is too fabulous to worry about soiling it with sweet and sticky barbecue sa
uce.”

“I agree.” Even though the mention of sweet and sticky did not bring barbecue sauce to his mind. “And no, I didn't make plans to take you to any of the restaurants in Sunsh
ine.”

“Where then? Your note was a little cryp
tic.”

“There are more surprises in store.” He offered her his arm. “Shall
we?”

“I'll admit”—­she settled her hand on his forearm—­“you do have me curi
ous.”

With a laugh and a wink to Ziggy, who'd stretched out beside the coffee table, Jordan pulled the front door closed. Then he led her down the walkway to where the limo driver stood with the door open and wai
ting.

“Where you going all gussied
up?”

Jordan looked up as an elderly woman next door came out onto her p
orch.

“Hi, Mrs. B.” Lucy gave the woman a little
wave.

“You sure look pre
tty.”

Even in the dark Jordan caught the blush on Lucy's ch
eeks.

“Thank you, Mrs
. B.”

“Hot date,
huh?”

Jordan chuckled. “I promise I'll take good care of
her.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. B said. “What that girl needs is to get her feathers all ruffled. In a good way, if you know what I m
ean.”

“Mrs
. B!”

“I'll see what I can do,” Jordan reassured the woman. He turned to Lucy. “Looks like your neighbor thinks you should be going out m
ore.”

“Yes, well, dementia makes people say all kinds of crazy thi
ngs.”

“I don't have it and I agree with
her.”

Lucy looked up into his eyes and before she could protest, he lifted her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “How about we get in the limo and see if you might agree
too.”

For a long, silent moment Lucy looked at him. Then she turned toward her neighbor. “I'll be by tomorrow to take you grocery shopping, Mrs
. B.”

“Okey-­dokey.” Mrs. B waved from her porch. “You enjoy yourself tonight. Who knows what tomorrow will br
ing.”

“Wise woman,” Jordan said as Lucy watched her go back into her ho
use.”

“I worry about her. I don't think she should be living alone anym
ore.”

“Nice of you to take her shopp
ing.”

“She's like the grandma I never had. So I look after her when her son and daughter are too b
usy.”

“Does that happen a
lot?”

“Unfortunat
ely.”

Jordan noted that Lucy seemed to be a caretaker. An admirable quality he was sure those she chose to care for appreciated. “Your chariot awaits, my l
ady.”

“I've never been in one of these before,” she said, sliding onto the long leather
seat.

“Stick with me, kid, I'll show you all kinds of things.” He waited until she moved aside the ruffles on her dress, then he slid in beside her. “Why should the teenagers have all the
fun?”

“Good point.” She spread her fingers across the seat and caressed the buttery lea
ther.

While Jordan imagined how those long, dainty fingers would feel on his skin, he lifted the bottle of Moët that had been chilling in the stainless ice bucket. He poured the bubbly into crystal flutes and watched her eyes widen when he dropped a ripe strawberry into each g
lass.

Yes. He'd tried to remember every detail she'd mentioned last night. He handed her the drink. “I hope this will be a night of many firsts for
you.”

“It's certainly off to a good st
art.”

When Lucy let her guard down and looked at him like she was right now, he felt like a completely different
man.

A better
man.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to keep her looking at him like that for longer than a few min
utes.

Guilt had played into his initial reason for planning this night. He owed it to her since he'd taken that long-­ago night away. But the more he was around her, the more she intrigued him. For him, Lucy was like that special gold foil–­wrapped chocolate in a box of assorted treats. You didn't know exactly what you were going to get until you unwrapped it and took a
bite.

Lucy had many interesting places he'd like to t
aste.

He lifted his glass to hers and they toasted. As Lucy pursed her luscious lips and sipped her champagne, the only thing Jordan thought could possibly make this night even better was if he could sip the champagne from her naked body. As a bonus he could think of plenty of ways to use the ripe strawberries. And heaven help him if a can of whipped cream came into
play.

Imagining Lucy spread out on a big bed with soft sheets made his tuxedo pants tighten. As difficult as it was to keep his mind where it should be, not even a raging hard-­on would get him to break the promise he'd made to give Lucy a night she'd never fo
rget.

She deserved to have a night just for her. It seemed she was great at helping others. Jordan wanted her to have a night where she could hopefully have a little fun and break free from any chains from the past that had bound her and stopped her from seeing herself as a brilliant, beautiful, desirable w
oman.

That's how he saw
her.

“So if not Cranky Hank's, where are we going?” She sipped her champagne, then dipped her fingers into the glass, brought the strawberry to her lips, and took a
bite.

The move wasn't calculated, Lucy didn't play that way. But he wondered if she had any idea at all how incredibly sexy she was. Whether she was in her kitchen wearing a big fluffy robe and pouring a cup of tea or wearing a ball gown and plucking a strawberry from a glass, she fascinated the hell out of
him.

He didn't even want to think about the dream he'd had of her in the few hours he'd actually slept last night. The zipper of his pants was already tight en
ough.

“Maybe you missed the part about all this being a surpr
ise?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I'm not a very patient per
son.”

“Good to know, and too bad.” He refilled her glass. “Because in about two minutes I'm going to have you close your e
yes.”

“What if I don't trust you enough to close them?” The upward tilt of her lips let him know her words were just a t
ease.

Heaven help him. He did like a playful w
oman.

He grinned. “What do I have to do to win you o
ver?”

The heat of her gaze warmed him as those dark chocolate eyes looked him up and down, then searched his face. His fingertips tingled to touch
her.

“Between the dress and the limo I think you've probably already proven yours
elf.”

“Then how about you close those gorgeous eyes
now?”

Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes closed in a display of t
rust.

And damned if he wasn't about to brea
k it.

He leaned in and touched his lips to
hers.

Bri
efly.

Because he ha
d to.

To her credit, she didn't open her eyes as he lifted his head. Instead a sexy little hum vibrated in her th
roat.

“Careful, Mr. Kinc
ade.”

She looked so delicious sitting there with her long, curly hair, her pretty lips, and her luscious cleavage teasing him from behind that sparkly fabric. Everything male inside him wanted to lay her back on that buttery leather seat and feast on her in the privacy of the darkened limo. He wanted to lift all those lavender ruffles and run his hand up her long legs until he discovered whether she wore silk panties or nothing at all. But he'd gone to a great extent to make sure she had something she'd never been able to enjoy be
fore.

Tonight wasn't about him and what
he
wanted. Tonight was about putting a smile on her face for reasons other than what he'd fantasized in his head. Tonight was about making up for the ass he'd been back in high school. And tonight was probably about a whole lot more he wasn't yet willing to cons
ider.

“Ms. Diamond, I should probably let you know
careful
isn't in my vocabul
ary.”

When the limo stopped, Jordan peered through the window, hoping everything was in place. If so, it would be a miracle. “Keep your eyes closed, L
ucy.”

“I
am.”

“Do you trust
me?”

“No.”

“Not even a lit
tle?”

“Maybe a smi
dge.”

The driver opened the door, and Jordan slid out onto the cobblestone path. He gave a nod and a handsome tip to the man, knowing he'd provide his own transportation to get Lucy either back home or to his Creekside Cottage should she choose to extend the party after h
ours.

He reached inside the limo, took Lucy's hand, and helped her from the car. When she stood beside him she tilted her head slightly as if listening for clues to their location. But the only sound was that of the creek bubbling over rocks and the distant call of a western blue
bird.

“I hear water,” she said. “But I can't imagine dressed like this we're going for a s
wim.”